Deal with the Devil
by HPfan1952
Summary: This is a more angsty continuation of Swept Away, and upon careful consideration now contains the secondary story 'The Hero and the Fire'. The plot now thickens as the bubble quickly bursts, leaving the question where will it go from here.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Castle, which is probably a good thing because even though I love the show, I could never write mysteries, well enough. This short scene is a continuation of Swept Away, which I originally planned on being a single short blurb I came up with in the middle of the night, but fate it seems wanted it to continue. And, now I have yet more to add though this portion might be more angsty then the first two, which is why I have placed it as its own story. If you haven't read Swept Away, I would recommend starting there. Special thanks to the Castle message boards, your theories helped to build the flashback part of this scene. The fallout, however, would be the same as I originally envisioned this scenario. Your theories have just added more fuel to what would have been a raging fire to begin with, as I believe the files were sent to Castle and when Kate finds out he was keeping them from her, to quote a Toby Keith song 'fit is going to hit the shan.'

Castle was startled awake by Kate's shifting movements, but smiled as she settled closer to him, her fingers laced with his own. He watched her breathing slow until it was the quiet rhythm of gentle peaceful slumber, her chest rising and falling beneath the protective embrace of his arms. Soft moonlight poured in from a nearby widow, which bathed her skin in a light radiant glow that filled his heart even further till every ounce of emotion within him welled over the edges and brought tendrils of joyous tears to his eyes. He snuggled closer to her, grateful even for this small moment of calm surrender, allowing the quiet tears to roll down his cheeks, and into her hair. Momentarily extracting his fingers from hers, he brushed away a tendril of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear, before softly, so as not to wake her; he leaned forward and kissed the exposed portion of skin between chin and ear.

"I promise you, Kate, for as long as I live, not another soul is going to hurt you," he whispered as he returned his arm around her, but as the words left his mouth, the bitter tang of truth set in. The smile dropped away, and he was forced to look away towards the night sky, new tears forming in his eyes, tears of un-ending guilt, begun the night he stepped into an office that looked more like a study with no light in the room, save for a small desk lamp, and the full moon.-

The man stood behind his desk, his back to the room, observing the New York Skyline through large wall sized windows, his hands clasped casually behind him, his frame a silhouette of shadow against the brightness of the moon outside. Castle bit back the urge to note the cliché in this setting, set a grim expression to his features and stepped fully into the room. He took stock of his surroundings, noting the rare medieval manuscripts in cases, the medieval weaponry hung in special stakes, and the medieval art adorning the walls, including a rare tapestry, hanging between two bookcases against a far back wall to his right, depicting the medieval rendition of a western dragon laying siege to a town full of distraught villagers.

"Does that particular one strike your fancy, Mr. Castle?"

The base voice of the man at the window held a clam, almost nonchalant air about it, as if despite the one being threatened he still held sway over the outcome of any event orchestrated. Castle turned away from the tapestry and faced the man who now stood watching him, the same calm demeanor written in aging features that he held looking away, his hands still clasped behind his back. Rick returned the stare, but said not a word, trying to keep tight lips against the barrage of words threatening to tumble out.

"A drink, Mr. Castle," asked the man, unclasping his hands and pointing towards a liquor cabinet at the corner of the room. Castle clenched a fist at his side, and again remained silent, clenching his teeth shut until his jaw ached. The man took a quiet look, nodded his head in simplistic understanding and headed for the cabinet. "A pity, Mr. Castle, much like my _antique _collection here, I have many vintage wines that come at 'high prices." The man reached into his cabinet and searched amongst the many bottles stored, the tiny sounds of clanking glass bottles echoing into the silence of the room. Finally, he rose up, a bottle in one hand, and wine glass in the other, and returned to his desk, placing both implements before him lightly. "Wont you have a seat then," he indicated one of the two chairs in front of the neatly organized desk. For the third time, Castle remained, as he was, his mind pounding against the anger welling up. "Well, you won't mind if I sit then, for me business is best handled in comfort."

The stranger took a seat at his desk, preceded to un-cork the wine bottle and filled his glass. He returned the cork just a coolly and lifted his wine glass to his lips, all the while watching Castle with mock humor in his eyes, as if taunting the writer to try something overly bold. Taking a sip, he leaned back in his chair, still studying the man standing in front of him, allowing seconds to tick by to the sound of a grandfather clock somewhere hidden amongst the artifacts of the room.

"You know why I am here," responded Castle forcefully, unable to hold his anger back much larger. A smirk spread across the man's face, as he gently set the wine glass down and folded his fingers over his desk. He inclined his head for Rick to continue. Un-able to trust what words what come, if he spoke again, Castle reached into his coat, removed a large envelope and tossed it onto the desk. "Those are just the copies, the originals I have hidden and hidden well."

The man gave a look of actual praise towards Castle, before reaching for a pair of glasses tucked away in a desk drawer. "Smart, Mr. Castle, very smart," he rose up, placed the glasses on his face, opened the envelope, and removed its contents, before continuing. "Not at your own home, I assume." The stranger raised his eyes towards Rick. Castle again remained quiet, and the man nodded his head in silent understanding. "I must say, Mr. Castle. Can I call you Rick?" Castle clenched his fist and again ground his teeth. "Right, Mr. Castle, I must say if you and I were not on the opposite sides of this little 'game' I would ask you to work for me."

The man returned to reading the documents, scanning each quickly, his face just as serene as before. Upon reaching the glancing at the last piece, he laid the papers down and removed the glasses before returning his stare on the writer. "This is pretty damning stuff. I take it your request must mean a lot to you, if you're so willing to play the dirty game of blackmail," he asked, the expression in his features showing he had played this very game before, with these very same pieces, over the very same person.

"You so much as send a written warning to her," Castle began through gritted teeth, both fists tightening until the whites of his knuckles showed. "And, I will release all of it to the press, every word, number, and picture. You will be brought down faster then you can count to three."

The man looked away and studied the nails on his left hand, before pushing up from his chair. He walked past his desk and Castle. Rick turned around, doing his best to keep from being caught un-aware. "Do you know why I decided to call myself 'The Dragon,' Mr. Castle," continued the man, aiming for a locked file cabinet at the back of the room. He reached for his keys, and looked back towards Castle. "Before, I agree to this arrangement I have one condition of my own."

"That's my deal, no conditions. I hold the cards in this game."

"Oh, and I thought you were a smart man," the man turned back to the cabinet, opened the top drawer and removed a file. He walked past once more and stood by his chair at the desk. "I want to ask you once more, do you know why I call myself 'the dragon,' Mr. Castle?" Silence reigned. "In medieval thought the dragon was equated with the Devil," the man tossed the folder onto the desk. "And, you make a deal with the Devil he owns your soul, Mr. Castle." He pointed towards the folder, and indicated for Rick to look inside. Stepping slowly forward, Rick held his breath as he flipped open the folder. He froze, his heart momentarily stopping in his chest. "The condition is this Mr. Castle, your 'muse' so much as places a finger on her Mother's case again, and her, your lovely little daughter, and your aging Mother," 'the dragon' paused, forcing Rick to look up from the surveillance photo's of his family, within the file. The features on the man's face turned deadly serious. "May just find themselves on the bottom of the Atlantic."

Castle forced himself to take a deep breath and look up and out the window at the ominous glow of the full moon.-

Tears burst forth from his eyes as he turned his attentions away from the bedroom window, and stared down at the sleeping form beside him. Guilt and anger swilled deeply inside. Anger at ever opening that un-marked package in the mail, anger at ever thinking he could use it, anger at his own folly. Guilt over such acts he had taken, guilt over every day seeing her face, and having to lie straight to it, just to keep her safe, guilt at ever placing his own family in the un-knowing position they were in.


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I do not own Castle, which is probably a good thing because even though I love the show, I could never write mysteries well enough. This is yet another short scene continuation of the original story 'Swept Away,' but falls under the angst of the next portion of this tale 'Deal with the Devil.'. Sorry for the dark turn, I originally had a much brighter continuation idea but I felt this is a little more true to the show, and has more conflict which though hard to read is storytelling at its most basic. _

The first rays of dawn tried to fight their way through the thick grey clouds blanketing the sky, threatening rain. The sound of rustling keys releasing the locks of the front door, echoed into the quiet of the open space, of Castle's loft, followed the slow rhythmic steps of two people trying their best not make a sound louder than whisper, and the light click of a door closing just as softly. Kate took in her surroundings, allowing the familiar sense of warm welcome to wash over her, and mix with new feelings of love finally expressed. She turned her attentions to Castle, and gave a small smile as she watched him continue up the stairs to his own room already shrugging off his wrinkled dress shirt; in that instant, in that image, it all fell into place and what was once a blurred vision became a clear picture, of a future spent right here.

She shifted her gaze away, and allowed it to room over the interior in a new light, as she slowly made her way towards his writing space, letting herself indulge in the small fancies of the mind. She could picture herself walking this very same path, on some morning such as this, heading for the same destination. Entering into Castle's work area, Kate rounded the desk and came to rest leaning over the top of the desk chair. The images in her mind's eye continued their slow dance, bringing a contented smile to her features, as she saw herself wrapping her arms around Rick's neck, as he sat his desk, and drawing her face close to his, watching him type away on some new story. Kate swept her eyes over the desk, noting the piles of checked and un-checked chapters next to the closed laptop, the several stacks of reference books, the pens and pencils and the many small notebooks filled with ideas. Listening for the distant sound of the shower, Kate bit her lip mischievously, and reached for the nearest chapter on the desk._ I know curiosity can kill the cat, but—_

The shower water cut off.

The sudden silence caused her to jolt.

The top half of the stack went flying to the floor.

Kate quickly bent down and began gathering the loose sheets of paper, returning them as neatly as possible to their original position. Piece by piece the pile of papers on the floor disappeared until only a small handful remained. Chancing a glance over the desk, she bent down for a final time, pushing the loose paper into a messy group, and raised up placing one hand on the edge of the desk for support. A small letter slipped loose from the center of the stack and glided to the wall behind her. Placing the stack in her hand rather hotly down, she turned and reached for the piece of paper, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

She halted, as she recognized Roy's handwriting. Felt a knot tighten in her stomach as her eyes barely grazed the first words. Instinct forced her to reach out tentatively for the paper with one hand, as if just touching it would burn her skin away. Nausea pushed its way forward, as shocked eyes continued to read what she wished she wasn't. Reaching out blindly for the arm of the desk chair, behind her, Kate finally pulled her way into a sitting position. Tears threatened to break free, as old memories surfaced with new wounds. The first line echoed in her head like a single drum beat: _Do not let Kate have this under any circumstance, do what you can with it, and keep her safe._

"So are you ready to play some mind games on—

She had barely heard the footsteps, approaching. Kate raised her head to look up at Castle standing at the cusp between the office and living room, his own hands frozen on the last button at his collar, his features between silent horror and deep anguish. Her own she could only guess read in some similar fashion, as the feeling seemed to have left every part of her frame. She lowered the document down on top of the desk, trying her hardest to put life into the questions at the edge of her tongue. Un-able to take a solid breath, she placed both palms on the desk, and raised herself up. Her mind blank, she searched about her trying to find something, anything, nothing, in a blind stupor. Almost on a will of its own, she found herself moving out from behind the desk, and passed Castle, his "Kate, I can explain," heard from a distance, but still loud enough to draw out the second emotion hiding behind the first. She bit back the fire wanting to rage forward, if only to keep from waking the rest of the household.

Reaching the door, Kate fumbled to turn the handle to leave. The second the door closed behind her, the tears spilled out, leaving her stumbling down the hallway in a blurred haze. She could almost hear the haunting sound of her own heart being crushed beneath her flying feet, as it shattered and dropped from her chest. Gone were the images of calm serenity, of small ownership. She knew there would be fights, those were inevitable, but she could not have imagined this. _Not this, not now_, _not this, not now, not this, now…_

_Author's note: I hope this scene came out okay. I had an idea of what would happen; I just didn't know how it would play out, so I don't know if everything reads true. It only gets worse from here, at least that is how I see it in my head, though whether it comes out that way only time will tell. Thanks, for sticking with me_


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I do not own Castle, which is probably a good thing because even though I love the show, I could never write mysteries well enough. This is yet another short scene continuation of the original story 'Swept Away,' but falls under the angst of the next portion of this tale 'Deal with the Devil.' Update: I just re-worked the second to last paragraph. After, I uploaded this I realized that I need to clear up some of Kate's dialogue, the original just really didn't make sense, but that is what happens when you write at 3 30 in the morning, lol._

The mood within the precinct felt thick enough to cut with a knife, as Castle stepped from the elevator and made his way towards the row of desks lined up on his left. Every eye turned, tentatively, in his direction as he passed, and just as quickly turned away, as if unsure whether to wish a good afternoon or run and hide before the storm sure to come. He cast a quick glance towards Kate's desk, and noted the empty chair at the computer, along with the several broken number two pencils scattered about the space. Getting quickly up from his seat, Esposito blocked the writer's path, preventing him from going any further, arms crossed firmly over his chest.

"Where is she," asked Castle, searching the remaining areas of the room with his eyes.

"What the hell did you do, Bro," questionedthe detective. "She came in here this morning ready to spit fire. Had everyone on edge; tried to tell her Ryan called to tell us they made it safe to Dublin, and you'd think I told her I set the city on fire." Esposito paused, and looked towards the Captain's office, before continuing. "And, don't even get me started with what the Captain thinks. She nearly sent Kate home, and if she catch's you here, man I don't even want to be in your shoes."

Castle felt the pain in his heart grip tighter; he desperately scanned the room a second time, hoping he might catch a glimpse of her coming around some corner. He tried to skirt around Esposito, and trudge onward in search of the only thing that mattered to him right then, only to be blocked a second time, by the glaring cop.

"I am being serious here, Castle, what the hell did you do?"

"She found it," Castle responded hastily, trying again to skirt around.

"What," he asked an angry, puzzled look on his face.

Taking a deep breath, and looking away, Castle tried to steady his racing heart, to form a more coherent explanation. He looked back to his friend and finally responded in as calm of voice as possible. "She found it, Esposito, she. found. _it_. She knows."

Esposito dropped back, the angry puzzled expression gone from his face, replaced by the shock of realization and deep concern. He looked over his shoulder at the few on lookers and scowled, sending them scattering away, before turning back to Castle. "How much does she know?" he asked his voice low.

"Not everything," dropping his head, Castle took a second steadying breath. "Not everything." Rick raised his and tried to bite back the tears threatening to slide down his cheeks. "She just knows that I have the info, Roy sent," he paused to look away again. "And, that I have basically been lying to her face for the last seven months." At those words final bitter words, Rick felt the full weight of the situation at hand, come to rest on his shoulders. He placed a steadying hand on Esposito's desk, and tried to keep from collapsing in on himself. When he finally spoke again, his words were barely audible to his own ears. "So, please, where is she?"

Continuing to keep his arms crossed, and the frozen look of resignation and frustration written on his face, Esposito inclined his head towards the break room. Castle immediately switched his directions, only to be stopped mid step by a quick grab of his coat sleeve. "Look, bro, I would not recommend going in there, but since you're more than determined too, know this, no matter what happens, the rest of us are with you. We all understand your motives behind hiding it and she means just as much to us." The detective looked passed Rick's shoulder towards the direction of the break room door. "Good, luck." With that he released the jacket sleeve and returned to his desk chair, and tried to type away at the computer.

The final steps to the break room came as slow torture. The knob felt like burning fire to the touch. The smell of cold coffee, a poisonous gas. Kate sat alone at the small circular table at the center of the room, listlessly rubbing her thumb on the handle of a coffee mug. She refused to lift her head, as he stepped through and closed the door behind him. Several seconds ticked by, the beat of his racing heart the only sound, within the room.

"What are you doing here," she finally asked, without raising her head. The lack of anger took him by surprise, and the pain behind each syllable cut him deeper than a volley of words ever could. Castle found his tongue momentarily silenced, as he watched her continue to stare at the mug in her hands. He could just see the tear stains streaking the sides of her face, and could barely hold back the urge to rush forward, take both her hands in his own and kiss away every ounce of that misery. Guilt fell in with the pain of the moment, un-ending guilt at being the cause of the misery, un-ending quilt at being the cause and not be able to do anything to fix it but stand there and wait while, he watched the misery grow worse. The heart could stand it no longer; he took a step forward without even releasing it.

"I can explain," he said, finding his voice at last.

He froze short of the table, as Kate raised her eyes to him, with a sorrowful look that could turn men to stone.

"Explain what, Rick," she asked, more steadily then her expression made seem possible. "That the man, I have come to consider my partner, my closest friend, my— she paused on the last word and looked down at the cup once more. He could see her chest rise and fall in a deep cleansing breath, before she returned her stare and continued. He could see the fresh tears slipping down her cheeks and it crushed him deeper then, the quiet pain. "Betrayed me." She rose from her chair, leaving the cup on the table, and walked to the far wall, keeping her back to him. "After all that has happened this year, how could you." Her words hit him hard. She turned back around and started towards him, still seeming to keep her voice steady. "I trusted you like no other." She paused, and he could hear her start to lose the battle over her emotions. His tears began to fall of their own accord, as the desperate desire to sweep her into his embrace, and not be able to, became unbearable. "And, now I am just left wanting to know that at the end of the day, the person I turn to isn't going to hold me with one hand and stab me with the other." Kate halted just at his side, but refused to meet his eyes. He could feel every muscle in his arms plead with him to just reach out to her. "Listen, Rick. I have already done enough shouting today at people, most of whom did nothing wrong, save for their job." She paused, as if trying to find the right words to continue. "Whatever you decide…to do, is your business. As for me, I am going to leave this room, go to my desk, and…and pretend," she took several deep breaths, and he could just hear the slight catch in her voice as she finished. "And, pretend that you...you don't exist."

Rick felt every part of his being begin to fade away, as if her words had truly erased him from the page, and he was but a shadow standing in a world not meant for him. He staggered to the side, as she pressed forward shaking her head as if trying to dispel some unknown thought. He caught himself with the back of a chair, as his will to stand suddenly left him. He wanted to sit, he wanted to leave. Slowly, running more on primal instincts, Castle found himself heading out of the break room, and towards the elevator. He dared not look back; his mind's eye could play out for him in to vivid of detail already of how she would be sitting at the desk, not looking up, not looking anywhere, tears falling unbeknownst to everyone else smearing the ink of the papers beneath her lowered head.

_Author's note: Wow O_o that did not turn out at all like I had planned, period. When I started this story, I started with the concept that when she learned the truth it would turn to an all out verbal fight, that would leave some bruised egos but, nothing overly dark. However, every time I tried to write it, it just did not feel right, and I have written enough of my own stuff, to know to listen to that little voice. So instead, I dug an even deeper hole, and now have an emotionally drained Beckett, and an emotionally destroyed Castle. _

_On another side note, yes that was a reference to Medusa and turning people to stone. I just gave it a twist since, once you learn her story, you have to admit it probably wasn't anger that turned people to stone but the sheer misery written in her face, from the torture inflicted on her by Athena. Lesson of her story: Don't piss off Athena. Well that's all for now folks, stay tuned._


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: I do not own Castle, which is probably a good thing because even though I love the show, I could never write mysteries well enough. This is yet another short scene continuation of the original story 'Swept Away,' but falls under the angst of the next portion of this tale 'Deal with the Devil.' I hope I haven't lost you guys after the mess that was the last chapter, nothing about it seemed to want to work right, but I guess I'll just keep trekking, and blame it all on wanting to write drama instead of something fun, yeah that's what I will blame, the drama. _

She missed the security that was it, the security. The knowledge that no matter what might come at her in the night, he would be there. Already, she had kicked the blankets to the floor and left the sheets a tangled mess. The guest pillow rested sideways across the bed, and hung halfway off the edge. Her own pillow lay beaten to a pulp, and abandoned at her at her feet, leaving her to rest her head on the crook of her arm. Her hair fell scattered around her face and shoulders, matted evidence of un-ease. She turned over in bed for the umpteenth time and tried to close her eyes once more, only to open them moments later from the sheer exhaustion, from exhaustion. Raising her head from her arm, Kate rolled over, placed both palms flat against the mattress, pushed herself into a sitting position against the headboard, and checked the clock. Two in the morning. Giving a sigh of resignation, she reached blindly for a pillow, and hugged it close, slipping down against the wood work, as she closed her eyes.

The scent was un-mistakable, clean, fresh, more than just a hint of some scent she couldn't name, but just spoke of humorous shenanigans and corky jokes. Without meaning too, Kate drifted off into a wakeful slumber, replaying that night's events in detail; the kiss on the patio at the reception, being carried over her own threshold, slowly dancing in her entryway, the moment everything fell into place, the heat and passion, the silly little jokes he whispered in her ear just to make her laugh before stealing her breath away with a kiss, just lying there next time, his arm around her. She forced her eyes open, the anger welling up in her chest. Gripping the pillow in both hands, she tossed it against the wall, and climbed out of bed.

_How dare he?_ She marched from her room and plopped down on her couch, using the decorative pillow for her head, and a light couch cover for her blanket. Watching the shadows of rain drops run down the wall, she tried to slowly drift off to sleep. All she could picture was his face as he stood frozen in the entrance way to his office area, the horror written on his face, as she held the letter in her hands. _Damn, him. _Turning over, Kate winced as something sharp poked her side. Sitting up she raised the covers, removed a hardback book from the couch, and cringed as she remember she had been re-re-reading one his books. _Curse, him_. Setting the book rather hard onto the table, she got to her feet and headed towards the kitchen. Taking in the two plates left in the sink, she forced down the twinge of memories of an actual breakfast waiting for her in the morning. Reaching into the fringe she pulled out what little remained on her milk, noting the expiration date was yesterday.

_Can't hurt_.

Pulling down a small glass, and a small sauce pan, she proceed to warm the milk over her stove, then glass of warm milk in hand Kate returned to her room. Placing the glass on the edge of her nightstand, next to her cell, she began changing the sheets on her bed, leaving the tossed pillow were it rested on the floor. Bed remade, she pulled back the covers and returned to her place of rest, and closed her eyes, the milk forgotten.

She missed the security that was it, the security. The knowledge that no matter what might come at her in the night, he would be there. She turned over, the whole process threatening the repeat itself. From the break of the covers she could see the discarded pillow, lying limply against the wall, like some tossed aside puppy that had only ever been there to help. _Go protect me, from yourself, Castle_. She turned back towards the nightstand, and tried to sleep again. But, the image of the pillow would not leave her; instead it slowly grew a face, a shape, until instead of a pillow resting there it was Castle, standing limply at her side, as she told him she wanted to believe he never existed. How she hated those words the second they came from her mouth.

_I need you to exist._

The day's emotions caught back up with her, the confusion, the betrayal, the bitterness, the harsh words to kind faces, the coldness with which she greeted the man who meant everything to her. She gripped her pillow to her face, and let the tears soak into the soft fabric, wishing she could reach for the guest pillow on the floor, but, afraid that letting go of her own would send her flying to pieces. She needed him right then, more than anything, needed his strong caring arms to rock her back to sleep; to fix what was un-done in her heart, with a silly joke in her ear. But, the one person she needed she could not find, because the one person she needed did not exist in that room except as a discarded pillow lying on the floor.

_I need you because, without you, I am only half of who I am._

_***Author's note: Thank you for sticking with me. I must say after the *bleep* my last chapter was, this one just wrote itself. I guess I really like Kate's perspective on things. _

_Anyway, to you Lord of the Rings and Lion King Fans, those small little shout outs were for you__ To those of you who are not fans, the quote '_Go, protect, me, from yourself, Castle'_ is a nod to these lines from the first Lord of the Ring's movie:_

_Aragorn: I swore to protect you._

_Frodo: Can you protect me from yourself?_

_And, the quote that ends with _'…only half of who I am,'_ is a nod to the second Lion King movie, which in a sense is a shout out to the whole, the lines being:_

_A young Kiara: But, that is only half of who I am. _

_Pumba: well, who's the other half?_

_Woot, woot, I knew I would find a way to sneak my favorite movies in here. Now if I could just find a way to channel my rest of my favorite books: The Hobbit, Redwall, Inheritance, Geographica, and Deptford, too, I could be pretty satisfied with my Easter Egg hunt***_


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: I do not own Castle, which is probably a good thing because even though I love the show, I could never write mysteries well enough. This is yet another short scene continuation of the original story 'Swept Away,' but falls under the angst of the next portion of this tale 'Deal with the Devil.' _

He missed the calm serenity that was it, the calm serenity. The completeness he felt with her at his side, and the peace it brought to a lonely soul. He turned one more time and stared at the clock on the nightstand, 2:00 am. Taking a deep long breath, he tried to stifle back the tears, threatening to overwhelm him, and rolled over once more facing the window to the outside world. The storm rattled on, and he could easily picture it never ceasing, could easily picture someone, somewhere pulling the moon, the sun, and the stars from the sky, leaving his world in a cold dark void. He wished he could reach out and find her there; find that it was just a really bad waking dream. Of its own accord his hand reached out, but found nothing, and landed with a hollow thud on the bed, intensifying the loneliness, and adding to the ache in his heart.

Turning back to the clock again, Castle closed his eyes and tried for sleep, but only the images and sounds of last night's events would roll through his mind. Her calling out to him as he started back towards the reception, kissing her so deeply he felt he would melt into her, her face buried in his shoulder as he carried her into her home, the fire that consumed him as she kissed his bare skin, the taste of her flesh on his lips, the light in her eyes as she smiled at a joke whispered in her ear, her snuggling closer to him, her fingers laced with his. It was no use; he just felt the echo of her lips brushing against his, felt the echo of her touch on his flesh, felt the echo of the imprint of her on his soul. Tears slipped from the corner of his eyes. He had loved her and lost her in the same day. Sitting up in bed in bed, Rick fought for the will to get up, grabbed his robe, and started for downstairs.

The main room laid dark and quiet, except for the rain drops drumming against the window pane. Making for his kitchen, he pulled out a carton of milk, and noted the weight suggested a shopping trip in the coming days. Pulling down a small pan, and starting the burner, he stood watching the milk slowly warm over the stove. The picture of her horror stricken face staring into his as she laid the letter down on to his desk burst into his thoughts, stealing his breath from him. His heart twisted in knots, he shakily poured the contents of the pan into a glass by the sink, and headed for the couch, setting the glass down on the table in front of him and taking a seat.

A barrage of emotions assailed him, bringing him to lay his head against the sofa's arm, to steady the dizzying feeling inside, his milk completely forgotten. There he stood once more frozen like a fool, as she looked up at him from the coffee mug, her eyes as haunting as death, tear stains striking the same cheeks that just mire hours before had held the brightest of smiles. Again, he felt the ache to kiss away the pain he had inflicted. _How could I have been so selfish to have kept it from you?_ Again, he felt the ache to pull her close. _It is your Mother's Case_. Again, he felt the guilt at having to hide it just to keep her safe. _Safe is where I wanted to keep you, Kate._ Again, he felt the moment she had ripped a hole out of him. _Please, let me exist in your life. Without you, I am not whole._

He missed the calm serenity that was it, the calm serenity. The completeness he felt with her at his side, and the peace it brought to a lonely soul. He curled his arms around a decorative pillow, the loneliness becoming overwhelming, and stared at the cell phone resting quietly beside the glass of milk. He wished he could just reach for it, dial her number, and hear her voice on the line; instead he clung to the pillow, afraid that if he picked up the phone her words to him would destroy him forever. He needed her right then, more than anything, needed her head on his chest, need her looking up at him with shinning eyes that told him without words, _I will never leave you_. But, the one person he need most he could not hold, because the one person he needed the most could only be found as number in a phone.

_Please, forgive me, I love you._

_***Author's note: Finally, I feel back on track. Again, this one practically wrote itself, but now I really feel like giving poor Castle a hug. ::sheepish grin:: I honestly, never saw things turning this way on this story but, it feels right. Oh, and I have yet another egg hidden here, yay! The quote 'could easily picture someone, somewhere pulling the moon, the sun, and the stars from the sky leaving his world in cold dark void,' is a nod to_ The Final Reckoning, the _last book in_ The Deptford Mice Trilogy. _The climax of which is where the evil cat Jupiter, newly returned from the dead, is standing on top the Greenwich Observatory, using what is called the starglass to literally pull the light from the heavens and plunge the world into a cold dead void. Well anyway now on to the final scene in this story, but fear not this will not be the end of their tale, oh no its just getting started, muhahahahah ::coke, cough, cough::***_


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: I do not own Castle, which is probably a good thing because even though I love the show, I could never write mysteries well enough. This is yet another short scene continuation of the original story 'Swept Away,' but falls under the angst of the next portion of this tale 'Deal with the Devil.' As, I noted in my last chapter, this is the final scene for the story 'Deal with the Devil,' The, next chapter starts my secondary story to this one called 'The Hero and the Fire.' I hope you enjoyed my little mirroring scenario in my last two chapters I just felt that despite being separated by not just city streets, but anger and hurt, that they would still somehow fall into a similar rhythm, their hearts truly beating in time with one another._

Several months earlier-

'The Dragon,' watched the writer leave, his hands clasped behind him once more, keeping the grin of victory held quietly in check behind a calm façade. A well built, dark haired man, in a leather jacket entered the room just as the last of Mr. Castle's retreating figure faded into the darkness of the hallway. At a nod from 'the dragon,' the man closed the door behind him, and came to stand in the middle of the room, his hands resting in front of his waist just above the butt the gun stuck in his belt.

"Shall, I give the word, boss," asked the man, simply, placing a hand to earpiece.

'The Dragon' shook his head lightly.

"We need him alive then," responded the man, just as easily, dropping his hand from the earpiece, and returning to his original stance.

'The Dragon' motioned his employee forward.

"You do not know where the originals are," asked the man, calmly.

'The Dragon' placed a hand on the copy of the files, and looked up towards the assassin.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Castle's fortune is proving to be his greatest asset."

The assassin flicked his eyes towards the folder beneath his hand.

"What do you need me to do?"

"Follow him," 'The Dragon' turned to look out over the skyline, he practically owned, and folded his hands behind his back. "Follow him, find the originals, and bring them to me."

"And, then?"

Taking a deep pleasing breath, 'the dragon' turned back around, and opened a third folder hidden beneath the first two. He lifted several more surveillance photos from the new file, and sorted through the faces pictured. Three consisted of the writer and his family. Two, featured a one Miss Katherine Beckett. And, one held a group photo of everyone at the 12th precinct. Locking his eyes with the assassin, 'the dragon' allowed his face to drop to deadly serious, and his voice to drop to a silent pleasure.

"And, then, you take them out," he paused to flick his eyes at the photos in his hands. "One," he tossed the three photos of Castle and his family before the trained killer. "By," he tossed the two pictures of Kate on top of Castle's. "One," he tossed the precinct photo on top of Kate's.

The assassin nodded his head in acknowledgement, gathered up the pile of pictures, and quietly exited the office. Pulling out his chair, 'the dragon', took a seat, lifted his still full wine glass and leaned back. _Oh, Mr. Castle, you have picked the wrong game to play. And, all I can say to you is, you best find a sword. _He turned his attentions to the tapestry on the wall, and allowed himself a small smile. _Not, that is going to do you any good._ In one quick motion, he raised his glass in a toast to himself, and tossed it all back.

_***Author's note: dun dun duuunnnnnnnnnnn. Well that's all folks for 'Deal with the Devil.' I want to thank you for sticking with me, and please do stay tuned I am in the planning stages for my next story in the saga, 'The Hero and the Fire.' Oh, and I have one thing I would to say to 'the dragon,' in the world of myth and legends, there is always a way to bring the beast down, there is always a chink in that scaly hide. Just ask every Knight, Prince, and even little Bilbo (yay, I found a way to give a Hobbit shout out)***_


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